


Changing of the Guards

by tameimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Young Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tameimpala/pseuds/tameimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John turns up at the motel in the small hours of the morning, expecting his boys to be in bed. But he soon discovers one soldier who has been taking his orders too seriously...</p><p> <span class="small">Pre-series: Dean is 7, Sam is 3.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing of the Guards

He rolled in at 4 o'clock in the morning, head still thumping and his arm bleeding through his shirt. John Winchester slowly unlocked the motel door and tried to block out the uneasy doubt and fear that his children would be gutted in their beds. This image, and thousands like them, dogged John every time he left the boys. As much as he wanted his kids safe, they would never be. This was for the greater good, they had to be ready. Prepared. This was the only way. He had chanted this enough times in his head for 3 years that he had started to believe it.

John opened the door praying that they were asleep. Asleep was how he liked the boys best. Sammy was now three years old and curious about everything, this made stashing guns and keeping Sam occupied with something that wouldn't blow the kid's head off hard work. On the other hand Dean finally resembled a child when he was sleeping, a look that was absent in his waking hours. Of all the things that John had done, seen and killed since Mary's death, the unnatural age that that clung to his eldest son’s features haunted John and filled him with guilt more than anything else besides the fire its self. He had done that, forced him to grow up too fast and burdened him with things not even a fully grown man could come to grips with. But the mantra chimed in his head again, _for the greater good, got to be ready, be prepared..._

As he entered the shabby motel room he reached for the light switch. Dean had fallen asleep on the fading lime green sofa, his left hand over the edge hovering above his sawed off shotgun. At the sound of the door and the sudden light he quickly sprang to life. He scrunched his eyes against the light, "Dad?" he said groggily.

"Yeah bud it's me, why aren't you in bed?" John sighed, setting his bag down at the table.

"I was watching the door, waiting-" Dean replied, spinning around to look at John. His eyes spotted the blood and he went to the cupboard.

"Well you shouldn't Dean, you need to sleep you know. You're no good to us tired." 

Dean came back from the cupboard with the first aid kit, he set it down on the table and retrieved bandages and scissors and looked up at John, "I'll go to bed when your arms fixed." 

The concern on the boy's face softened John and he sighed. "Okay nurse, we'll fix the arm first."

Dean worked quickly, cutting away the fabric around the wound and soaking it with alcohol, even reassuring John when he hissed at the pain. He wrapped a bandage around the arm and secured it with a safety pin. After he was finished he yawned loudly but still managed to ask if it was too tight.

"It's fine kiddo, now you need to get some sleep." John said, ruffling his hair. 

But Dean shook his head, "No, I'll keep watch." the determination in his eyes was starting to scare John.

"Keep watch over what?" John asked, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Over the door, so no nothing can come in and get Sammy." He said, he tried to walk over to his previous look out post on the sofa but John caught him.

"Dean how long have you been keeping watch?" John asked quietly.

"Every night, sometimes I fall asleep..." He admitted, refusing to meet John's eyes like he'd somehow failed him, "But most nights I can make it till 4, that's when the worse is over."

"The worst?" 

"The witching hour till 3 o'clock, they're the worst times. I read about it in Uncle Bobby's books, that's when the monsters are strongest. So I have to keep Sammy safe" Dean said with such conviction that it scared John much more than the poltergeist he'd tangled with earlier. Again, this was his fault. Turning Dean into the perfect soldier, training him up with all so much responsibility on his shoulders, he was proud of Dean's protectiveness but if it went too far it would kill him. Then he and Sam would have nothing.

"Okay buddy but your dead on your feet, and I'm back now. I'll watch the door, I promise." John said. He would have to set Dean straight soon but not now, the kid needed some rest.

Dean rubbed his eyes, "You will? But you're tired too"

John sighed, Dean always put everyone ahead of himself. It was a quality that John admired but it made him unbelievably stubborn as well.

"I'll live, my arm's all better now thanks to you. Now come on, no more arguing. Bed." John steered Dean towards the bedroom. The 7 year old walked like a condemned man but John was sure he'd fall straight asleep once his head hit the pillow.

He opened the bedroom door, the night had already started to grow lighter, enough for John to leave the light off. Sam was lying right in the middle of the bed. The recently turned 3 year old was wrapped in one of Dean's jackets, clutching the edges as if it were a blanket.

"He wouldn't go to sleep, kept on getting up all..." Dean began to explain but John just patted his head, “Bed." He said with as much authority he could muster.

Sam stirred in his sleep and woke up. His bright eyes looked left, searching for Dean. When he didn't see him he started to fuss "Dee? _Deeeee??_ " He called sleepily, his little hands outstretched. He hadn't quite mastered the last two letters of his brother's name yet, but something told John that Dean didn't really care so much and even he had to admit it was pretty adorable... After all he was sure that pretty soon Sammy would grow out of his needy, nobody-but-Dean stage, they would have to enjoy it while it lasted. Dean left John immediately and went to Sam, when he saw his older brother he was visibly relieved and calmed down.

"It's okay Sammy, I'm here..." Dean said, climbing on the bed and stroking Sam's hair. 

Sam immediately climbed on him and placed his hands on either side of his older brother's face, "Why you not sleeping?" He asked.

"That's a good question Sammy," John answered. He looked at his sons from the doorway and realized it was Dean who Sam always cried for, Dean who was the only person who could comfort him. Although he was happy about how much the two cared for each other he couldn't help but feel a little jealous, and maybe even a bit left out. 

"Daddy!" Sam giggled, "Daddy's home Dee!" 

"Yeah I know Sammy, calm down." Dean said as Sam started to bounce on the bed.

"Right I want both of you asleep in one minute, come on, under the sheets." John ordered in a jokingly stern voice, he lifted the covers up and Sam and Dean scrabbled underneath. Sam lay in the crook of Dean's arm smiling happily, Dean's eyes had already began to droop.

"Night boys..." John said softly.

Dean was already asleep but Sam muttered back, 

_"Night night."_


End file.
